Shadow of Corruption
by Elanor Odd Socks
Summary: Hermione starts on her path to unravel the mystery surrounding Ron's alliance towards the dark side. Shadows, betrayal and living the world's perfect expectations makes everything harder for her as war starts to bitterly rage. Ron/Hrm with happy ending.
1. Hermione

Shadow of Corruption

IMPORTANT NOTE: Usually, the first half of a chapter is the person's thoughts on their life and world. So this part you are reading would be what Hermione is thinking, as a 27 year old person. Then, the part separated by the * sign is the part where the story is telling of what Hermione is doing and her actions. Inspired by Pygmalion and Artful Facade. 

Chapter 1- Hermione

I see the signs of winter pass me by, fully-fledged on a war-torn mission. For a brief second, I wonder if it is another ally Harry has gained against the war with Voldemort. Another tactic the "Saviour" of our wizarding community is using for another victorious battle over the recesses of evil...

Doesn't Harry realise? Doesn't anyone realise that with war- everything is just a battle of supplies? Nothing is won. Everything is wasted. Everyday, people report news of joy, praising Harry for another ten yards of land he has overcome. Yet I stay to listen between the lines. Another fifty casualties lost against Voldemort's eighty today. 

One hundred and thirty men gone- boyfriends, or fathers, or lovers... gone. What did these one hundred and thirty men die for? Justice? Love? Hate? Or futility?

Harry is not my lover. He is merely my companion. I "belong" to Harry, because the wizarding world expects us to be together, the Ministry of Magic and the Vice- president of Cambridge University for witches and wizards. And because our relationship, if you can even call it that, is solely founded on everyone else's expectations, it resides on the platonic levels of Platonica. Don't get me wrong, Harry still has the capacity to love; it has just been swallowed and trampled by the needs of the community. 

Sometimes, I think we have all deprived the world of the real Harry Potter. 

Sometimes, I even think it is because of Harry that Ron went away. 

Ron. Those stubborn brown eyes. The infamous shocking red hair, which always seemed to be laughing not with you, but at you. The Ron Weasley I grew to know. The Ron Weasley who joined forces with Voldemort eight years ago. I shouldn't call Ron evil, or a minion of Voldemort. Because Ron was never the type of person whose's will could be ruled by another. Is he evil? Is he a damnéd bastard who murders without even blinking? I honestly have no idea...  
  
Ron was my best friend, Harry's best friend. Yet now, ever since that month eight years ago, even Harry has banished the thought of Ron. Mention the name in his presence now. And you see the noble disgust and hate of one of the right-hand men of Voldemort.   
  
But, it all doesn't make sense. Nothing does, in today's world where we are the chess pieces of men's whims. Why do we live in life? It cannot be to eternally struggle against those who oppose us. Sadly it seems to be that way. They said World War II was the War to end all Wars. Yet what are we fighting in again? 

Harry tells me Ron betrayed him... us... everyone. Betrayal, such a harsh and ruthless word to use on Ron. It is times like that when I want to shake Harry senseless. He is pompous now. Arrogant. The "Saviour" of our world who loves everyone. Yet no one. 

Look what we've all done to him.   
  
My "partner" Harry... is boring, dull and knows nothing except how to continue to be the "Golden Man". He lives by his daily schedule, invites from international Ministries and various other boring tête-à-têtes. The Boy Who lived is gone. The Harry who wondered around Hogwarts pulling jokes and pranks with Ron is gone. The boy we all loved... is now the Man who loves everyone. 

I wish Ron was back. I wish Ron never went away. It sounds like a simple wish. If only it could be that way.

Ron. 

It seems his name appears every time I reflect on the past. Not that I am surprised. my entire past practically consisted of arguing with him. Now, I am starting to wonder why. Why he abandoned me eight years ago... 

No...

Those are Harry's words... But perhaps for once, I agree with him. Ron did abandon me. Not only because he is now with the "enemy", but because he let me go... 

Why? 

Why. 

For Merlin's sake, Damn it, Why!   
  
Once, I tried to forget Ron, by making myself the slave of everyone's expectations. But I couldn't forget the person who always managed to infuriate and annoy me. I love Ron because he is the only person who can provoke my hidden emotions. I also love him because he hates every soppy silly Romance novel ever written. No matter how I try, I can never make myself hate Ron. 

Unlike Harry. He has changed. People don't think so. They call it growing up. I call it the loss of innocence, the loss of childhood.

Yet in a sense, Harry Potter had no childhood.   
  
In that perfect "golden" world of Harry's, there are no raw emotions. Only time to save the people once again. Everything is prim and proper. "Like the way it should be, Hermione, " Harry once said.

The wizarding community looked towards Harry for salvation too soon.   
  
What has become of the two boys that I love?   
  
I still use the word "love", not "loved". A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. How ironic for Harry it would be to discover that I still have feelings for Ron. I smirk at this- yet smirking and irony is still reserved for Slytherins. Which reminds me of another person, Professor Snape. He has also gone over to the Dark side with Ron, not as a spy anymore. For him, I suspect things really started after the death of Albus. 

"Good riddance," Harry had muttered, he never really trusted Snape again after Albus's death.

Yes, Professor Dumbledore has died. He wasn't murdered. No one in the world could ever murder him. He just died, an old man in his bed. I was there when it happened. I was also there, when he muttered his last seven words. Something to do with Lily, Harry's mother. Right now, I can't seem to remember it. But I always have them stored in the back of my mind. Because Dumbledore was a great man, and no word that came out of his mouth was needless. 

Thinking back, I wonder who Lily and James really were. I wonder how two loving parents as they could ever give birth to someone now so unfeeling as Harry. James grew up only to love and adore Lily. Harry is now growing up only to care shallowly for the whole world...

Mention the word love to Harry now, and he'll give me a quick kiss, a blank stare. And then he'll go and have more meetings with the Prime Minister.   
  
Why? 

Why, Ron?

Why am I fading away here, like a statue- contented to do only what is expected from me by the general public? Why can't I do anything I want to, I feel like? I feel like I am trapped in a gilt cage. This cannot be my fate.  
  
Why! Ron?   
  
I sit and continue to write a letter, a dutiful one composed rightly by the Minister's soon to be wife. Another letter thanking another important guest.   
  
Why. Ron.   
  
Why can't I be out in the park, or the library laughing away with the sun? I can't fight everything on my own. Not forever at least. I want to see Ron again. I remember him once telling me to be strong. "For Merlin's arse, Hermione! You can't just be what every lump of poo wants you to be," he had said.   
  
I think Harry will propose to me soon. In his normal and "proper" way. Probably one day at dinner, when we're eating. He'll probably just say something like, "Hermione, I think we should get married."   
  
Everything in my life is so ironic. Because people used to think that me and Ron were meant to be. 

But now, I am with Harry.

Why? I'll tell you why.  
  
Because you left me, Ronald Weasley. You left me.

*

Hermione picked up her quill resignedly and looked at the piles of parchment lying on her desk. She looked down at her quill again, and something inside her made her decide to put it down. Hermione sighed. Life, each day took the form of a reprimand Harry was mentally giving her. A reprimand to do the right thing, like a proper Minister's "wife", the way Harry wanted her to behave.

Hermione stopped her wistful sighs and got up from her chair. She had had enough thinking already. It didn't help her at all. In fact, Hermione was sure that it only dragged her deeper into a pool of screaming emotions, mostly about Ron. It seemed, that even after the eight years, she could never forget how to love him. He wasn't just her best friend at school, even though they always bickered with each other. But then again, it was always through those days of bickering that Hermione found the best of herself. 

Hermione frowned and shook her bushy hair, which had only tamed down ever so slightly. What she really needed was someone she could talk to and ask for advise. About everything, Harry, herself, Ron and the whole bloody war. Hermione couldn't help smiling at the word "bloody". Ron had always used it, and she had always told him to mind his language. She had never expected herself to utter the coarse word even in her head.

Like people who have never seen snow before seeing a tiny flake, Hermione was thrown off her mental balance. She couldn't explain what had happened except that somehow, she was fed up. Fed up of being coped up in a place while she knew that there was something more important she could do. 

Right now, she needed a distraction from her thoughts. Hermione gathered her bags, ready to apparate to one of her friend's houses. God knew that it had been a long time before she had mindlessly chatted with any of them. Hermione listed one name after another in her head. 

Not Sirius, though he was the person she usually visited with Harry. Right now, he was busy with another undercover breakthrough at Fort Adamant against the Death-Eaters. Not Remus either. He was with Sirius. The two went everywhere together and they never gave a damn to how dangerous the situations were. Not that Sirius or Remus actually enjoyed fighting in the war. Hermione suspected they only fought it for Harry's sake.

Not Remus, not Sirius, Dumbledore was gone. Professor Snape was with Ron and Voldemort. Ron was definitely out of the question, unless Hermione decided to rampage into a cave full of Voldemort's evil minions shouting for Ron and an early death.

Lavender. No. She was busy with the birth of her new baby. She and Seamus had decided not to wait. Like so many couples whose lives were affected daily by the war. Parvati. No. Hermione had already bothered her too much. Besides, she was probably busy at the Hospital anyway.

One by one, the names were ticked off. Hermione felt a growing sense of desperation as she came to the end of her list. The only people she had not thought of were Harry and Voldemort. And Hermione was not so dumb as to go to either of them for a harmless chat.

But amidst a war, desperate times did call for desperate needs. Hermione did the last thing she would have ever had the courage to do. She would see Ginny. Rather than face Ginny than to face another day of emptiness and loneliness. 

  
  


Ginny...

It sounded simple. But reality was harsher. Of course, Ginny had been one of Hermione's best friend back in Hogwarts. But Ginny also happened hate Hermione's guts. Ever since the news that Ronald Weasley had gone over to the dark side, the Ministry started to distrust the Weasleys. And the Weasleys in turn distrusted Harry and Hermione.

Hermione was a smart girl by nature and she could guess why. Ginny had always liked Harry, and now Hermione was living with him. Hermione and Ron had been extremely close, and so it was natural to deduct that something in their relationship drove Ron away. There were perhaps more complex reasons, which only Ginny would know...

A strange thing fate could be, but somehow it was fate and determination that drove Hermione to take up her wand. Visiting Ginny would defeat the purpose of trying to distract her thoughts from Ron. But it would perhaps tell Hermione something more about Ron. After all, Ginny was Ron's favourite, and only, sister. 

And Hermione would probably get kicked out of the Weasley house the minute after she stepped in...

The least that Hermione could do was to try. And perhaps to ask Ginny for the help she needed. A clue perhaps to uncover all the secrets of their past and the reasons that drove everything to its present consequences. 

Hermione looked at her wand and then at her shaking hand. She shook her head and took a deep breath. Hermione muttered the spell under her breath. Almost immediately, a dizzy sensation went up through her spine. Not because of the actual apparating. But because of the arrival Hermione knew she would receive.

A simple apparating spell. And she would be inside the Weasley house. It was the trouble with magic. It made everything sound so easy to do. Magic made people think there were invincible. Magic took away the real meaning of being a human. A spell, and Hermione was inside the house she had not dared to step inside for eight years. God, was it fair for magic to make her decision seem so damn easy?

Hermione was inside. Inside the kitchen for the first time in eight years. She felt like a trespasser amidst all the warmth that could be sensed around the house. Still full of warmth, even though the Weasleys were now one of the most suspected families in Britain. Because of Ron.

"Good evening Hermione." The tone was resigned and flat. Hermione's hope faded, only Ginny knew how to accuse someone without sounding it. 

Ginny was standing in the kitchen, where Hermione reasoned she would be.

"Hermione. How nice of you to come." Ginny said with a hint of irony in her voice. "Please sit and feel welcome." Ginny was standing by the kitchen cabinets, putting utensils neatly in their place. Ginny had been in charge of the household for two years already. Most of her time was shared dutifully between her brothers taking care of their aging Father. Molly had died two years ago. Arthur was probably following Molly's fate.

Her death. It had been out of a broken heart. For Ron. He was always his mother's favourite. 

Molly's death, Arthur's fate, Ron's departure. Hermione couldn't blame the Weasleys for hating herself and Harry. How could they not? It was natural and Hermione knew that she would have done the same had she been in their shoes. 

There had been rumours a while ago that the Weasleys still kept up correspondence with Ron. A precaution Harry could not and did not miss. There were Goblins now guarding The Burrow. 

Yes, even Harry turned against his old family.

As much as Hermione wished to avoid Ginny's eyes, she had to look at her. "I'm sorry Ginny. Sorry for all the stupid things I've ever down in all this." Hermione pleaded desperately, not caring if she had to beg or get down on her knees. If only the world could see this now. Hermione Granger with tears in her eyes, begging the person who belonged to the most suspected family in Britain. 

There was a reflex in Ginny's face. Something softened, like the rare ray of light that escapes from a burnt Nova. Ginny was not a cruel or cold girl by nature. Hermione knew that if Ginny could only forgive her, then her world would be much better off. But, as suddenly as Ginny's softened countenance appeared, it vanished. 

"Sorry's just a word Hermione."

"What do you want from me then. Forgiving is another word, Ginny."

"Forgiving has to be sincere Hermione."

"So sorry's not?"

There was a lengthy pause as each woman struggled with her words. Finally, Ginny continued in a flat voice. "Hermione, please join us at dinner. We have enough room." Behind the kitchen door, Hermione could hear the clatters of dishes, jokes and laughter, still strong in amidst all the controversies. The Weasleys were strong. 

Her own strength was hanging by a thread.

"I can't Ginny. You know that. Fred, George, Percy, Charlie and Bill all can't forgive me for what I've done or didn't do." Hermione replied. She didn't know what she wanted from this visit, but to hope that her life wasn't really a dead end. 

And to hope that she might discover why Ron really left.

And as if to further prove the Weasley's dislike of Hermione, Percy came around the corner and into the kitchen. What had began as a merry laugh and persuasion for Ginny to join the rest of the clan ended in a cold but polite scowl. "Good evening Hermione. Nice day at the Ministry? Anymore innocent lives put to trial?" Percy muttered coldly and walked starkly back into the living room. 

Hermione's heart dimmed. "This is why I can't stay, Ginny." she muttered almost to herself. "Why I can't stay..." 

Again, there was that breeze, that almost warming expression. Unexpectedly, words came out, not as cold or harsh as the wintry Ginny that Hermione had seen for the past eight years. It was a shadow of what Ginny had been to Hermione back in Hogwarts. Nothing more than a shadow- but even a shadow was something. 

"Hermione. How can you expect us to forgive?"

It was a start. The first time Ginny had ever considered that the word in a softer light. Forgive.

"Perhaps I don't," Hermione replied softly. "But you've got to understand, Ginny. One day, he just left me." There was a pause as Hermione hesitantly thought over her words. Ron did leave her, but it had been something that had driven him to that decision. 

Hermione was no fool. She couldn't recall one particular incident where she and Ron had had an enormous fight. All there was were smidgens of conversations and other bits and bobs. But she had been Ron's closest friend. She probably had done something that had seemed so trivial years before, something that had probably been so important...

And Hermione had Ginny standing in front of her, another more precise means to find out the truth than to sort through old memories. 

A shaky exhale of breath. And out blurted a Gryffindor's honesty.

"Was it me?" Hermione asked. And almost laughed at herself. It was such a rhetorical question. 

"Yes. Along with the others, Hermione. But you were so close to him." Ginny replied and averted her eyes, clearly thinking of her mother and her death. "I'm sorry Hermione. I can't deal with all this. Maybe you should come back. Then we can talk."

"Tomorrow?" Hermione asked eagerly, hopefully, desperately. 

Ginny saw that desperation. "Tomorrow."

*

Author's notes: Well, that was as good as I could bother to revise and get it. Was it good? What did you think about it? Tell me! *Mad chants to Tiki-torch carriers in background* Oops, wrong story- that's for Interrogate Draco to help him escape from his doom. Self- plugging, I like it!

I hope you like this new version. 1000 cookies to everyone who reviews. 1000 make-believe cookies that is!


	2. Hermione

Shadow of Corruption

IMPORTANT NOTE: Today, it's Hermione's thoughts first, then the passage after the first * is a flashback. Then the next passage after the * is what actually happens when Hermione goes to see Ginny. And you get my point. Inspired by Pygmalion and Artful Facade. 

OTHER IMPORTANT NOTE: Story will not be fluffy. Do not be worried about this chapter because Ron and Hermione do love each other. But they don't love each other. And there's something that went wrong in the past. A lot of things actually- it's a mystery Hermione's getting to bit by bit.

Chapter 2- Hermione

Say my name, Hermione Granger, and it brings back school memories to everyone. I used to be the head girl, bossy and know-it-all. Now I just want to know it all. There are so many mysteries surrounding everything. Ron's "traitorous turn", what really happened between Ron and Harry, where Ron is now, the death of Professor Dumbledore and the mystery of Harry's father. Was it really Snape? Or was it the mere ramblings of an old man approaching the gates of death?

So many mysteries to unravel- each in their turn as enticing as the other. Somehow, I think they all whisper to me- for me to solve them. So many mysteries so heavily buried under the burdens of the past. So many natural shocks our flesh has endured, concealed under the years of pain. 

What happened to Ron can answer what happened to Harry. Why Dumbledore died can answer why Snape lives on. Who Snape is can answer who Harry is. Where Ron is can redeem the grief I have silently let fall these years. And when that happens, I can find out from myself, what really happened between Ron and I. 

Which is why I must find out all I can from Ginny. 

My old school friend, who yet hates me bitterly for tearing her family apart- a reason I do not know, yet her family knows of. Practical Ginny, the sunny Ginny who loves her friends and family with the equal passionate fervour so often seen in Ron. Ginny loved Ron a lot too, it seems back then everyone did. 

So maybe, I'll just have to accept Ginny's blame. 

A tear streaks a silvery path down my face. A stray tear- because I don't cry too much now. It's just not me to cry. 

What is it for me to do then? Bury myself in a book, like in my teenage years? Which brings back so many more memories. Of the sun, dawn, a new light shining its rays at Ron and me. Ron's red hair, his laugh and jokes. Ron trying to pull me away from the window ledge, laughing and persuading me to play Quidditch. 

Quidditch. I was never good at it. Harry still plays of course, to show-off really. A way to entertain some new important international guests. A good conversation topic at the World Forums from the British Minister of Magic... 

I have to know what Ginny knows. The normal me, the bookworm, has already spent one year reading up all that I can about Ron, Snape and Dumbledore. Nothing. Because nowadays, amidst the war, books tell cheery lies.

I wait impatiently for the time to come. To see Ginny again. Maybe after all these mysteries have been solved, then we could be a shadow of what we were back then. A shadow is all I can expect at the present. A fluttering fragile geometric shape. 

Funny how Ron always used to describe shadows. As a half dead soul, waiting to catch the other half- like waiting for the Golden snitch. Ron always philosophised with quidditch. I wonder what Ron is doing now. Telling a pack of vicious Death Eaters how Rainbows are God's way of making peace and letting us play quidditch? Having a cup of tea and telling the Dark Lord to vote for the Chuddly Cannons? 

I could never imagine what Ron joined a place that sounds so stark and bleak. He's too energetic for the dark side. So why did he go? Harry tells me everyday that there are people there who rape and murder on a daily basis. Harry tells me that over on the other side, it is dangerous, savage and brutal. 

I shudder so much when I hear these things. But recently, I am starting to doubt this piece of propaganda. Yes, I am calling it propaganda. Because everything that comes out of Harry's mouth is praise to the light side of our world. I am sure that there are many people who have just been misinformed. 

Like me? 

I am confused. But I am glad that I am confused. Because to be in confusion, my mind is changing. And because my mind is changing, it is a sign from above. That maybe today, I shall not walk home to a dull companion in failure. 

Part of my mind is afraid. Yes, sorely afraid of what I will learn. Perhaps there was some grievous misconduct on my side concerning Ron. Perhaps all those years ago, I did something. Perhaps I said something that made him go. Fragments blow into my mind as it dimly remembers another conversation we once had.

When I was reading, sitting on the window ledge and Ron came. Thinking back, I realise he matured so suddenly that everyone was caught off the handle...

*

A seventeen-year-old Hermione Granger sat on the window ledge, her legs tucked neatly below her nightgown. It was dawn, and the sun had called out to Hermione once again. So, as usual, she had gone to read by its dim yet warming rays.

Soon after, as usual, Ron Weasley came to find his best friend reading in their favourite spot. Hers to read, his to tease. 

"Morning Hermione." Ron bellowed into Hermione's ear, startling her extremely. Yet it had been their usual greeting of each other. Still, as Hermione reflected, neither of them ever got bored with it. Thankfully too, otherwise Ron had threatened he would dance around the school naked except for Dobby's tea cosy. Which wouldn't have been a good thing for the poor innocent first-year girls of the school. 

"Ron, don't do that again." Hermione scowled, yet burst into a cheery smile a while after. No one could be angry with Ron for very long. Especially herself.   
  
"But Hermione. It's always so funny." Ron pouted, assuming the air of a sulking seven year old. An air which he was very professional at assuming, Hermione pointed out to herself.

"So it's funny to see me tumble down out of the window after getting the worst shock of my life one day is it?" Hermione retorted, with some cheek in her own special way.

"You know I would never do that." Ron replied. "I would never live to see you hurt."  
  
Hermione smiled and looked up from the pages of her book (So what if you can't fly by Squib. Wings). To her surprise, Ron was looking somewhat serious.   
  
"I am serious Hermione. I would never let you get hurt." Ron took Hermione's hand and looked into her eyes somewhat keenly. 

Like a hawk that had just ran into Peeves carrying a bucket of red paint.

Hermione looked back into those brown eyes of Ron's and looked away uneasily. "And this speech is coming from a person who tried to recently use a cardboard house-elf looking like it was in distress to lure me into the lake. Thank goodness I wasn't fooled and that you could only draw stick figures, Ronald Weasley." Hermione weakly joked, trying to keep the conversation light. It had just been a simple mechanism. Whenever Ron ever said anything, she always replied lightly.

Hermione sank her head hastily back into the book she had been reading. She was not sure of Ron today. He seemed so serious.

Ron sighed. There was a long pause. The birds, the early diligent ones started chirping. No worms for them however. The magical worms knew the English saying and only came out at night.

"Would you follow Harry whole-heartedly, Hermione?" 

Hermione looked up, rather surprised at the question. She paused however, and tenderly looked back into the freckled face of her best friend. 

"Harry is our best friend. I think I would give my life for his."

"Really?"

"Yes Ron."

"What if Harry changed. Or what if I asked you to go somewhere with me?"

"Would it be Disneyland?" Hermione asked.

"Huh?" Ron asked.

"Disneyland, the place you were going to ask me to go to. Is it Disneyland?" 

A smile. "Could be. They sell good peanuts there."

"Then I would go with you and Harry, Ron."

"Everywhere with the both of us?" Ron asked carefully, hiding some kind of glint in his eyes. 

Hermione looked up from her books again. "Everywhere with you and Harry."

*

Hermione put on a heavy jacket, the one that Harry had gotten her once he had been holding a meeting in Paris. Apparently it was an expensive jacket too. With some stupid brand label called Armani. Hermione wasn't one for labels but the coat was unusually warm. Something she might need for the windy afternoon.

She took out her wand and apparated with ease into the Weasley house. Hermione looked around. On the other hand, she shouldn't have taken the coat. Whatever the weather would be outside, the Weasley house was always so warm. Just looking around the mantle place gave Hermione other memories she did not want to remember. Not yet anyway.

Ginny came bustling from upstairs, her wand in one hand, and a silly picture drawn by the House Ghoul's baby brother in the other. Evidently housekeeping.

"Hermione. I'm sorry if everything's a bit messy for you," Ginny began, not sure of the exact tone of voice she should been using. 

"There's nothing wrong. I'm sorry for any problems but I thought this time would be best for both of us." Hermione somewhat stammered. "You know, everyone else. They are working." Hermione still sadly referred to the fact that the rest of the Weasleys hated her as much as she sometimes hated Harry. Hermione looked around uneasily. She was also trying to find a corner to fling her coat at. 

Ginny saw Hermione's coat. "Here, I'll put it away for you," she offered more gently and took it up to hang on a clothes hanger. 

Hermione saw the brief look pass by Ginny's eyes. So Ginny knew it was a gift from Harry too. And whatever the memories, Hermione wondered if the little girl inside of Ginny ever completely stopped loving The Boy Who Lived- a little boy called Harry who had just been as lost as she had been in her second year. "I'm so sorry Ginny." She murmured. 

Ginny looked up. She smiled somewhat tightly. "Harry wasn't your fault."

Hermione looked into Ginny's sad, and yet still unfriendly eyes. "But everything else was, wasn't it Ginny?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Hermione blinked her eyes- God; she wasn't about to start a bawling fit in the Weasley house was she?

Ginny took tentative steps forward. "Hermione," Ginny whispered, "Here, let's talk upstairs. We need this so much for our sakes."

Hermione nodded, the once threatening tears now subsided. In a way too, she was curious- here was something. A first. Finally, one step, one clue to the mysteries she was living in.

The two walked up stairs. Ginny first, leading the way. They briefly passed Ron's room. "We never stopped wishing." Ginny replied wistfully to Hermione's thoughts. 

"You must think I am a monster." Hermione replied quietly, her determination not to cry wavering. 

"We did. But not just you." Ginny's voice starting flowing with emotion as she turned her head away. 

The two walked on, each in their own thoughts. Each trying to piece out the other's. One was in doubt, doubt whether to forgive. The other was doubting. Doubting if she could ever be forgiven. Finally, the path stopped. Ginny pushed open the door. A creaking noise followed. 

"We need to oil it soon." Ginny said, trying to make conversation. Hermione smiled.

The two girls walked over the floor, covered by dust. No spiders, Hermione nodded. Something the Weasleys did perhaps, in memory of Ron. Hermione turned and looked around herself, until she was beckoned to sit down on some cushions. 

Ginny sat too. Next to her, a small box. "I'm so sorry if this isn't what you are used to." 

"It's really okay, Ginny. I am the one thanking you." Another pause. Not so awkward because no matter how one girl tried to hate and blame the other, they both loved the same. She as a sister. The other... was a mystery. 

"Hermione. I don't thoroughly despise you. But I don't love you either. Because somehow I still blame you."

Tears were about to come, but Hermione managed to suppress them. She nodded. She knew it wasn't in her place to say sorry yet. How could she just say one senseless word and expect to be forgiven. 

"So before anything, this is why you should read this." A letter taken from the box. 

Ron's letter.

*

Crysanthmum Abbey

London

2003 June

Dear Ginny, 

My sister. I know it shall pain you to discover this letter. But remember that your brother is only doing this for the best. Try not to blame anyone for all that will happen. If so, blame it on me. It is my own actions that will cause these changes.

You know, you have heard the news. The scandalous news that Ronald Weasley, best friend of the Great Harry Potter has gone over to the Dark side. I will not deny that Harry Potter is now no more that a great big-headed Cornelius Fudge. I cannot also deny that I have indeed left his side.

Out of mutual disagreements, which I sure the pompous man had suited his mind to forget. In truth, Harry is no longer the person he was, dear sister. You loved him as well as I. But in truth, he has hardened. 

I think he is a bastard now. To be precise. Did you ever wonder what everyone else thought of James Potter when he grew older? Like Harry. The words Dumbledore told me. Like Harry. Both only cared for the world. Only cared for the "good" side.

I did join Voldemort. Funny, I always used to be afraid for his name back in school. But don't worry. People misrepresent him; Harry gives false lies about him everyday. Malfoy here, and I are the only two people who go on our own. Not a bad place. The truth can be seen here.

I think Snape might join. He always had a mystery about him. Something to do with Harry. Poor man. 

The truth is, sister, I cannot tell in much detail as I still think over it too much. I join because I have been heart-broken. Yes Ginny, you joking and merry brother is forlorn. I know that you will find out, if I don't tell you. Not too unguessable anyway. Who were Ron friends back in school?

I had a talk with Hermione, after the incident with Harry. The one I talked to you about. As I found out, she was taking his side. Not exactly taking his side, but it was I guess, a natural reflex. But the thing is, I think that Hermione loves me more than Harry. But her head thinks more about Harry than me. If I told Hermione to go with me, she would go with me, only if Harry was there. 

She still thinks we can still be the Jolly Old Trio. 

And there's a bit more. Hermione might change. She might follow Harry more. I'm just his mere shadow. He's greater- much as I hate to admit it- more powerful. I don't want to fight out over Hermione. Harry will entice her with his reasoning. I'd rather...

So I would rather leave than to see Hermione become like Harry. My heart is already broken, Ginny. It does not want to stay to be tortured everyday. 

There's not much more I can make myself say. I do love Hermione. Yet it is without reason that I love her. And I think she would want a normal life. I think privately, she understands more of Harry's philosophy.

I don't know.

Maybe I leave so I might leave the pain of loving her.

I know I would love too much. Perhaps she might be afraid of my love. But I love Hermione too much that I do not want to ask her and face rejection. In truth sister, perhaps I didn't love Hermione.

Perhaps it was a hell lot more. 

Ron.

*

The rain started and the wind blew about in the attic. And tears of lose and regret could be heard by all.

*

Hope that chapter wasn't confusing for anyone. Please review- I would love to hear your comments concerning all this! By the way, just wondering- if you don't know what to write me a review on- write about if you like it, what you didn't like, was it sad, boring and etc.

Shan- Yes well, don't worry, this story will be continued! Thanks for your review.

Severus Snape- Dear Professor Snape, I did not steal at all. I was inspired by the way they wrote on their stories. As for you, kindly shut up or I'll write about you falling in love with an orgy. I expected better critique on your behalf as a teacher- shame on you :)!

Blank name- Lol thank you. I am extremely happy you like this chapter!

Aja Tres'- Yes, I realised that the end of chapter 1 was extremely jagged and the paragraphs didn't follow through. As a result, I changed the lower half of that chapter immensely, all thanks to you! Thank you for your review. Hopefully, this chapter is a bit better written than the last.

Please- here is the next chapter!

Angela- Yes, I know what you mean and I'm make the love between Ron and Hermione very mysterious. It's not going to be light-hearted fluff really. There's so many mysteries Hermione has to solve for herself. 

J- Thanks. I liked your review too! :)

Cherly- Thank you!


	3. Hermione

Shadow of Corruption

Summary: Ron and Hermione to the end. Inspired by Pygmalion and Artful Facade. 

Genre: There will be Romance, but no light yucky Romantic mushy Romance. Just Ron and Hermione's Romance. Will have angst- but not too much.

Rating: Perhaps R later. Just angst and a mention of war angst... For now, rest safely assured that this is a safe work.

Note: The first part is still Hermione reflecting to herself. Don't forget, that after the letter, she's quite shocked and is a bit unnerved. Sorry about delay! 

Chapter 3- Hermione

Deeply in thought, I sink into my, armchair and ponder. I think. Not critically because I don't believe even my mind wants to analyse every word in Ron's letter down to its detail. Not today anyway. Now, all I want to do is to drift along with some wilful flow. I want to sleep and rest, and perhaps to be contented without making decisions for a long, long time. But alas, how harsh and dreary is mortality!

Nevertheless, my mind persists to wander beside the soothing rivers of the past, and into a place where only old ghosts of attachment roam. Past the chambers of my confined heart, my emotions mark their fading territory. But I wonder sometimes, for how long? 

Once, you would think that I was never at a loss for words. I was called the intelligent one, the girl who always had answers to her teachers' questions. Yes, even Professor Snape's, although he never let me. But right now, I am at a loss even for thoughts. Can you believe that? Must I really astound you further to emphasise my misery?

Tell me, Harry James Potter, aren't you shocked? Right now, your Hermione is witless, dull and fed up with your act. Then again, was I ever your 'Hermione' in the first place? Or was I 'Ron's', by some unwritten rule that no longer lingers in the air? Oh, call me whatever you want right now, and I will not care. 

Don't even try to rationalise what I am feeling right now. You would be wasting your time, because even I cannot describe it. My mirror was always my twin. Yet today, it is a stranger. Because what is currently staring back at me is a girl with a wet face, swollen red eyes and streaming tears. 

Have you ever woken up one day, and realised that the only thing you ever wished was to live? No? Then again, I suppose you haven't met Ron. Because to live is to be able to roll down on a patch of dewy wet grass, and have no one to tell you off. To live is to eat ice cream in the rain, and lick ice in the cold. 

And I live no longer...

Oh.

Oh...  
  
Oh, I do hate myself! 

I loath, I dread, I shudder with a sense of shame. And even if you could not put two and two together, after seeing Ron's letter, you would still realise who caused the rift. What I did or rather what I didn't do has resulted in this hypocritical world where one friend seeks to slaughter another. 

I might have only been eighteen then, but eighteen was a powerful age.

The things I could have done, I ignored. The things I should never have touched, I broke. And sadly, the broken pieces still remain on the ground to this day. Perhaps if I look at the brighter side, it doesn't mean that I will always be breaking, not mending. I am not a Goddess, or even half-immortal. And I doubt that with a foolish wave of my wand, everything would be back like it used to. 

But can I try?

But I will try.

If any believed in me, they would not be disappointed that I am still the brave and bold Gryffindor of the moor. Perhaps I was in Gryffindor because of this fateful day. Perhaps Ron was in Gryffindor because despite these foreboding circumstances, he is a loyal man.

You tell me repeatedly that Ron has betrayed us all. You sneer at my belief in him, you state he has gone over to Voldemort's side. You call him a cowardly dog, never a Gryffindor Lion. 

Then let me say back to you and ask, what is loyalty? Tell me Harry James Potter, what is loyalty? It is nor hand nor foot nor arm nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Yet somehow, Ron is made of loyalty. You now take it for granted that he was sorted into Gryffindor, because he is another poor Weasley. And all poor Weasleys belong in Gryffindor. But, in times like these, where my mind plays rebel with my sense of security, I want to ask of you of so many questions...

Tell me Harry James Potter, what is Gryffindor? It is nor hand nor foot nor arm nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Yet you are in Gryffindor, and look at yourself now. I am a Gryffindor, and look at me now. Ron is a Gryffindor, and where did you say he is now? 

Gryffindor. Slytherin. Ravenclaw. And why is poor, poor Hufflepuff always last in our order of the houses? The brave? The sly? The smart? The open? Who were we in life that we were so easily sorted into one house and not another? Was it ever necessary to class us, tender children of eleven, into houses where virtues blurred the line with another? 

Are we not all smart or brave or sly or open? Because in truth, there are many forms of courage, wisdom, ambition and warmth. Would Hogwarts have been our shelter, or was it really our bane? Being bought up with the expectations of our individual houses, can it not be said that Hogwarts moulded us? 

Moulded, out of flesh and blood, we are the real chess pieces of today's world. Magical or not, we are in every essence all human beings. 

Yes, we are all humans, or we were once. For, once upon a time, there did live a boy with ebony coloured hair and a handsome smile called Tom Riddle. And once upon a time, there did live another boy with ebony coloured hair and another handsome smile. That boy was you, whom you once were, Harry. Are you and Tom Riddle so different in life? You both kill now, and take lives with sardonic need. 

Ron, why was he treated so much differently from you? Was he not in Gryffindor too, did he not have courage in the face of danger? Yet he always played the part of the shadow. Your shadow. Ron Weasley, the sidekick with red hair and hand-me-down clothes. Harry Potter, the brave and heroic boy who would save our world. It seems to me that you two always shared some kind of bond. Linked by friendship, now chained by fate. 

Fate. Unlike the fickle goddess Fortune, Fate is extremely picky. Fate is a mousetrap, as intricately planned as the labyrinths of the Minotaur. Fate is patient, much more patient than Fortune. She sits there and waits. Waits. Waits. And suddenly, she pounces on you, like lightening, snaring you with her poisoned web. Fate chose you, Harry, and everything then must end with you. 

Someone once yelled that what we do in life echoes in eternity. Then it is all the more for me to right this wrong. 

Perhaps it was today when everything smashed back into my face; everything that I've always subconsciously tried to deny. I loved Ron. I love Ron. Yet his love was wholly different from mine. His was deep, passionate and the very heart of the matter. His love was piercing, and could foresee all. Mine was hidden, ashamed, shallow and shaky when challenged. 

Shake your heart. Scowl at me. But I am Hermione Granger, the girl who liked to have things under her control. I will always prefer logic to emotions. 

I shunned Ron's love, because it was devoid of any rule or regulation. Because it meant freedom. And I was afraid of freedom. 

Call me aloof, but I am Hermione Granger. 

Time can pass, but I will still be Hermione. Time can stop, time can even rewind, but I will still have the same personality, strengths and weaknesses. Time changes nothing. The seasons always come back. It is your mind which alters who you are and much more. Looking back, which were my real memories of Hogwarts, and which were just lies to ease my thudding conscience? 

*

She was an eighteen-year-old girl. He was an eighteen-year-old boy. She preferred libraries and hoped one day to read all of the books in the world. He hoped, well, the boy hoped for many things. He hoped that his robes were newer, that he had fewer brothers, that Chuddly Cannons would win for once in his life and that in one book or movie, the sidekick could somehow get the girl. 

She was Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. 

He was Ronald Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. 

It was two weeks from the Spring Ball. Silly thing it was to have dances that celebrated every season of the year, the girl secretly thought. But even though she disdained the way her friends would always giggle as a potential partner walked past, she admitted that everyone did need more cheering up. Especially with Voldemort's killings going this way and that. 

Hermione Granger was sitting in front of one of the desks in the Gryffindor common room. It was eleven o'clock, a time when only books and know-it-alls still lurked around Hogwarts. But even Hermione did not totally live up to her name. She was getting tired and after stifling another yawn, privately wondered if starting on her long application essay to Cambridge University had been such a good idea after all. 

And just as Hermione was getting up to go to bed, a series of thuds came down the stairs. She immediately guessed who the owner of the noise was. No one else in Hogwarts had bigger and louder feet than Ron, except Hagrid and possibly Pinkie, the over-sized house-elf who was Dobby's best friend... 

"Hermione, what on earth are you studying this time?" Came Ron's lazy tone from behind. 

Hermione turned around and looked rather cross. "What doing mean by that, Ronald Weasley?" she accused. "It's not like our exams aren't next year or anything."

"Really, Hermione," asked Ron, faking an expression of pure shock, "Why, I never knew! You know, recently it seems the only things you've been talking to are your books. I'm really worried about it, Hermione. You might think they're humans next."

Hermione couldn't help feeling rather indignant at Ron's response. However, even she did not feel like another fight at the dead of midnight again, something the two were notoriously famous for. Attempting to avoid another collision with Ron, she changed the subject. 

"So, why are you up at this time of night, Ron?"

"Secretly applying to Cambridge as well," he replied, trying to put on a straight face. 

Hermione shook her head and primed the corners of her mouth tightly to show her disapproval. 

"Don't do that Hermione. You look like Professor McGonagall." 

  
  


"What's wrong with Professor McGonagall?"

"She's wrinkly, bossy and strict." 

"Ron!" Hermione almost yelled in irritation, "Professor McGonagall's my favourite teacher. She's like a role model to me." 

"That explains why you've been trying to wear your hair in a bun recently. It might have worked if it wasn't so bushy."

There was a pause as Hermione fumed and started listing the top ten most painful hexes in her mind. But it had seemed that day that even Ron had wanted to prevent another fight. As she painfully recalled it, he had said, in a rather strained tone, "Look Hermione, I'm sorry about the teasing just then." 

"You should be, it wasn't very nice." 

"Yes, well... well... you hair isn't that bushy if you squint at it in the dark." Ron stammered on, looking at the floor very earnestly. There was a pause, or at least Hermione thought so, as he continued, "Anyway, Hermione. That's not the point. I think we should be really honest with ourselves." More stammering in a more strained voice. "Not like in fourth year with that stupid Yule Ball." 

At that time, Hermione had had a tinge of red across her cheeks. The fact that she knew or thought she knew what Ron referred to was the very cause of the matter. She wasn't stupid. The arguments the two had in fourth year had been very personal. They also should have been solved when the two were in fifth year, when Hermione told Viktor Krum she only liked him as a friend. 

"What did happen before the Yule Ball in fourth year, Ron?" Hermione squeaked in a nervous voice, looking everywhere but at the person she was speaking too. It was embarrassing; not only because of the situation, but that the two of them were seventeen, a supposedly mature age. 

There was a silence, and it wasn't really golden at all. It just went to prove how silly clichés could be in real life.

"Umm... fourth year, Hermione?" Ron said in an extremely strained and embarrassed voice. "I meant um... fifth year. That's right. It was fifth year that I was talking about."

Hermione's heart dropped. At time that, she had thought that Ron would have at least been brave enough to admit everything. It wasn't that Hermione was really unsure of her own feelings; she even suspected that Ron had a little in return. But that had never been the problem; it was just that he would never ask. 

Perhaps at that time, it had never came across Hermione's mind that neither did she. 

"But Ron, we didn't have a Yule ball in fifth year."

"Well... then, suppose it was during our fourth year okay?" 

There was a tension that slowly mounted in the room. Still, Hermione tried to encourage a faint hope for one more expectant time. "So, what is it about fourth year that you want to talk about, Ron?"

At that time, Hermione had thought that she had been so stupid. And as sad as it seemed, she had believed that at that time, he was going to say it. She had thought that Ron was going to say that he liked her. 

"Nothing about it Hermione, I just thought we should just be honest with each other. We're best friends." 

"Oh."

"Well, what I really mean is that, you should just admit that you're going with Harry to the ball. Because that's what you and everyone else want."

"What... what are you talking about, Ron?" Hermione stammered in a daze, as her books came tumbling down from the desk. 

Ron looked at her uneasily in the eye, and almost painfully, he opened his mouth. "I know you like Harry. Don't you?"

"Ron, don't be stupid," Hermione raised her voice angrily, only to be met with another pair of angry eyes.

"I'm not stupid. I bet everyone knows, except me. Was your relationship so special that even you didn't want to tell me? I would have understood Hermione." Bitter drips of poison almost sizzled in the room.

"Understood, with what? Your irrational behaviour like right now?" Hermione retorted sarcastically. 

"So you admit it now," Ron challenged with a un-Gryffindor like snarl. 

"I don't have any feelings for Harry!"

"Liar."

"You're being childish, Ron, if you think I'll join your little game of name-calling." 

Ron, totally ignoring Hermione's sentence blurted out his thoughts. "You like Harry, Hermione. Because being with him is much much more safer." His voice although honest ant truthful, had seemed cold, like ice, sharp icicles that could stab...

  
  


And the last thing Hermione had heard when she dashed up the stairs in tears was Ron's voice. "I can read you, Hermione. You wouldn't want me."

*

If words could have ever prophesised the future, it had been Ron's. Hermione Granger took in a deep breath of the bitter and dusty air. She had so conveniently forgotten those words, that fight, but now they seemed determined to back to sting. 

She sighed, sorrowfully afraid for the future, yet determined to go through with it nevertheless. True bravery, that was- to do something even though it was your greatest fear.

Hermione had no definite plan or course of action to take, but she knew nevertheless what she wanted out of everything... For Ron to be back. For the wonderful boy called Harry to return. For everything to simply heal and get better. 

It was strange, because although Hermione longed to see Ron once more, she was sorely afraid of what the future would give. Like Juliet Capulet, she did not truly wish to taste her vial of potion just yet. But she had to...

Hermione got up from her armchair. Resignedly, she walked towards the kitchen and started preparing for a quick dinner. And perhaps a good night's cry later on in the evening. As Hermione shifted from one methodical cooking spell to another, she was mentally making a list of the steps she could take. She could go through Harry's classified papers, contact Sirius and Remus on the whereabouts of the inner circle of Voldemort and probably look for Ron from there. A visit to Ginny was also needed, to say goodbye if Hermione did decide to take the journey into actually physically finding Ron...

Or an early death, she added wryly. 

And as Hermione finished preparing the dinner, she was invariably stunned by the sound of a doorbell.

"Ding Dong."

The doorbell rang again, almost impatiently. Still, Hermione stood on one spot transfixed and distressed, wondering why her life was starting to seem like a never-ending hex. Only one wizard in the universe would presume to actually ring on someone's doorbell and that wizard was probably arriving for supper too.

His name was Harry James Potter, occupation- British Ministry of Magic and Fudge Junior extraordinaire. 

"Hold on Harry, I'm coming." Hermione shouted resigned, as she quickly muttered a summoning spell and set the table." She certainly wasn't in the mood for entertaining, not after reading Ron's letter. But neither did she want Harry to realise what was going on.

As she opened the door, it was all Hermione could do to abstain from a look of pure... venom? No. Hate? No... It was too confusing, Hermione thought as she fixed her eyes on Harry's firm features. Deep down, she didn't really know whether it was right to hate Harry at all. Because... well, because this aloof and changed man that was standing before her eyes had shared some of her best childhood memories. In honour of their friendship at Hogwarts, Hermione could never contract her heart to complete bitterness. Everything was her fault as well. 

Harry greeted in her in his usual way, short and to the point. "Good evening Hermione." His voice was flat and with a rather pompous air. "How has your day been?"

"All right." She murmured. "How was yours?"

"Hectic as usual, it turned out that there's been someone illegally smuggling rare Chinese Goblins into Edinburgh Woods. I had to sort through dozens of restraint and international endangered acts and later put up with outraged calls from the Chinese Embassy." There was a pause as Harry continued in his usual manner again, "Aren't you going to let me in the room, then?"

"Well, Harry." Hermione absentmindedly began. As she looked in his blank green eyes, she decided she wasn't going to hate him but neither was she going to forgive. 

"Well what, Hermione?" There was impatience in his tone.

"Harry, it's just that I don't feel..."

"Look, Colin already informed me that the goblins around the Weasley's house saw you disapparating from there, Hermione. I was hoping to give you the chance to admit it." Harry's manner was stern and his face contorted into disgust as he muttered that word, 'Weasley'.

"What?" Hermione was clearly thrown off the balance, and then angered as she regained her composure. "What are you doing now Harry, placing your spies around me?" she asked rather acidly. "I have a freedom to go wherever I want to. A freedom, Harry."

"Even if it means seeing Ginny Weasley? She's a Weasley for your sake. You never know what harm could have come to you with her."

"Ginny Weasley? This is Ginny we're talking about! Ginny wouldn't hurt an ant. And if you haven't remembered, Ginny was once your girlfriend, Harry!" Hermione screeched.

Harry stood in the doorway, unfeeling and cold, like Hermione's last words had no impact on him whatsoever. "The past is not the present, Hermione. People change, they take the wrong path. I'm the one who's here helping everyone else. Besides, Ronald Weasley wasn't who he is today, is he?" Before Hermione could retort with further rising hysteria, Harry coldly handed her a rather old envelope. "There's a letter from Sirius and Remus, asking you to visit them again. I'm going now Hermione, and hopefully this childish behaviour will disappear by tomorrow." And after those words, Harry abruptly and sternly apparated away. 

  
  


Hermione closed the door softly, afraid that anything would shatter if she let alone breathed. Clutching the envelope in her hands, her mind screamed for herself to calm down and breathe deeply. 

One... I can make it. I am stronger.

Two... I must make it. 

Three...

*

Terribly sorry for the delay of this chapter, but my school and social life took up too much time. Please review, and I'll reply to them through email if necessary. I'm on fictionalley.org as well, under Elanoroddsocks.


	4. Author's note

  
  


Dear all wonderful readers:

This is just a small note to ask you if you know how to get italics and bold print to turn up in FanFiction.net. If you do, please could you tell me because I think I really need to use italics. 

By the way, I might be getting a beta reader. 

An especial thanks to: 

FlameRaven- Well, I finally updated and am very glad you're still following this story. Chapter Four hopefully won't take as long to write. I updated on your birthday- well there's your present then. *Lol* Yes, I think Harry does have a stick up his arse, but that's how the story goes. . And don't worry, as soon as chapter 4 comes out, this Author's note will be gone. You almost hated him? That makes me feel very assured because I hope to write it that way in the first place.

Amaniachwen- Hi, welcome to my story. I'm really glad you liked it. The introduction wasn't boring- thank goodness. I'm sure you'll find more Fan Fictions that are better than mine. I've just started chapter 4 at the moment. 

Carlyd- Yes, I did actually put one or two Shakespear lines in chapter 3. And don't you worry, there will be Ron/Hermione present time interactions soon. 

Merry early Christmas,

Elanor.


End file.
